


After dark

by switchfault



Series: NaNoWriMo 2015 one-shots [4]
Category: EXO (Band), M.I.C (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 04:31:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5150312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/switchfault/pseuds/switchfault
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ships passing in the night doesn't have to be a bad thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After dark

**Author's Note:**

> Entirely for [tsurakutemo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tsurakutemo).

Beijing, midnight

The music is deafening, drowning out any and all attempts at conversations. It's just the way Yaoyao likes it. Nothing to focus on but the heavy bass and the seemingly never-ending rhythms and melodies, urging him and everyone else in the club on and on and on. 

It's strange being out on his own. Jianci and Xiaoxin are working on a new song, Wang Hao is with his new girlfriend, Yuehan is sick and cranky and refusing to go anywhere. Yaoyao could've stayed home, curled up on the couch and watched movies or played some games. He could've worked on music too, or listened to Yuehan complaining.

This is better. He makes his way to the bar, ordering and downing his third shot of the night, before going back to the dance floor. So far, only a few girls have recognized him, but they've kept their distance, and he's grateful for it. It's nice to be anonymous, just another body in the crowd. No responsibilities, no worries, no nothing. Just dancing, dancing, and dancing some more. 

When the crowd surges and moves in one direction, he doesn't pay attention at first. There's always some guy or girl showing off, or someone fainting, or someone making out to an audience. The way several girls seem to shriek so loud that he can hear it over the music, however, gives him pause, and he cranes his neck to get a look at what's going on. Sometimes, it's helpful to be tall.

A guy dressed in black stands near the bar, smiling faintly at the girls in a circle around him. It takes Yaoyao a few moments to recognize him; one of the Chinese guys who left Exo to do their own thing. What's his name again, Tao? Something like that. Yaoyao hasn't officially met him, just nodded to him in passing at some music show or another. Or maybe that was one of the other ones. Either way. Doesn't have anything to do with him, he figures, though he feels a little bad for the guy. He probably just wants to unwind and have some fun for the night, and instead he finds himself surrounded by fangirls.

Who knows, maybe that's the guy's idea of fun.

Yaoyao goes back to dancing, trying to focus back on the music and nothing else. It's difficult not to be aware of the crowd of girls, however, and he keeps glancing over, easily noticing the increasingly fed-up expression on the guy's face.

_Don't do it_ , a voice in his head tells him, but he's already halfway over there, weaving his way through the mass of girls and grabbing the guy's hand. "Want to dance?" He almost has to yell to even be heard, and the guy stares at him in surprise for a second before he grins and nods. Doesn't even hesitate in following Yaoyao out on the dance floor, hand holding onto Yaoyao's.

Fucking hell. It's not like Yaoyao to be so forward. Yuehan would be proud.

 

 

Beijing, two seventeen a.m

Yaoyao was right, it is Tao. Zitao. He half yells a thank you into Yaoyao's ear, and then they're dancing. They don't fit at first, moving too differently, neither of them used to each other. Yaoyao is used to dancing with girls, or with Yuehan, or with Jianci. Who knows what Zitao is used to. It probably isn't anyone like Yaoyao. They crash into each other a couple of times and Yaoyao accidentally steps on Zitao's foot once. Awkward. This is why he usually doesn't make a move so quickly.

Zitao just laughs, however. Takes Yaoyao's hands and adapts to him, takes the time to fit with him. Yaoyao tries to do the same in return; pulling back a little to just watch. Zitao's dancing style takes some getting used to, but Yaoyao likes it. Likes the way he moves with the music with the kind of ease only years worth of dancing every single day brings.

When Yaoyao moves closer again, they fit. 

It's different. It's nice. If it wasn't for the girls still staring at Zitao and attempting to take pictures, it would be downright hot.

Zitao waves at the DJ and does some weird movements with his hands, and the music changes. Slows down, the bass seeming to drop another octave until Yaoyao swears the floor is vibrating beneath his feet. The whole atmosphere in the club changes and Yaoyao swallows because this, this music isn't like the funky high-octane pop they've been dancing to so far.

This is music you could strip to, or make out to, or fuck to. And Zitao is the one responsible for the change.

He's fully aware of what he's done, too. Grins at Yaoyao and raises an eyebrow, giving him a downright challenging look before throwing his head back and going back to dancing. He moves like a wild animal, graceful and dangerous, and Yaoyao feels like he's in over his head but he's not about to back away. Instead he steps closer, resting his hands on Zitao's hips and dancing with him, closer than before, so much closer, and he swears he can feel Zitao's heartbeat against his chest.

 

 

Beijing, three twenty a.m

The air in the club becomes increasingly hot and stuffy as the night goes on, and even after drinking a couple bottles of water, Yaoyao feels like he's going to faint if he doesn't get any fresh air. "I'll be right back," he tells Zitao, but instead of hanging back, Zitao comes with him. 

Maybe he's worried he'll get jumped by fangirls the moment he's on his own again.

Yaoyao ducks out of the club and leans against the wall, taking deep breaths of the chilly night air. They are far from the only ones hanging out outside the club, but nobody seems to pay them much attention now. Who cares about some boyband members when there's alcohol to be drunk and people to hit on?

"You're a really good dance," Yaoyao says. As far as flirting goes, it's pretty lame. Then again, considering the amount of times he has more or less grabbed Zitao's ass on the dance floor, he probably doesn't have to say all that much.

Zitao shifts his weight from one foot to the other and looks down. Almost shy. It's kinda cute. "Thank you. You too."

Outside of a club in the middle of the night isn't really the time or the place to have a proper conversation. These are the things that should no doubt take time. Exchanging phone numbers, make dates, send text messages and stupid selfies, get to know each other. Go slow, be careful, no rushing. All the sensible things Yaoyao has been told and has told himself.

"Wanna get out of here?" Zitao asks.

Without a second thought, Yaoyao grins at him, and nods. To hell with being sensible.

 

 

Beijing, four forty-nine a.m

Zitao's apartment is impressive. Bigger than the one Yaoyao shares with his friends, and far more luxurious. Apparently it pays off, being in the Korean music industry for a while. Not that Yaoyao would change anything. He likes where he lives, and who he lives with.

"This place is amazing," he says. 

"Yeah, yeah," Zitao says and grabs onto the front of Yaoyao's shirt, pulling him close and kissing him. It feels like it comes out of the blue, but it probably doesn't. At all. They're in the guy's apartment, after all. Late at night, after spending hours dancing together. Yaoyao would have had to be an idiot not to have seen it coming.

He definitely is a bit of an idiot.

Not so much of an idiot that he doesn't go for it, however. He wraps his arms around Zitao and pulls him even closer, practically pulling him off his feet. It's like he can't get quite close enough, and he sure as hell doesn't protest when Zitao pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. "Impatient," Yaoyao mutters against his lips.

"Shut up and get naked." Zitao laughs, quiet and giddy, and then he's pulling Yaoyao through the apartment, to the bedroom. 

There's hardly any light, no sounds aside from the ones they make. Yaoyao relies on touches and sensations, letting everything else fall away. There's no hesitation, no doubts. This doesn't have to mean anything, it doesn't have to _be_ anything. They don't have to be soulmates to enjoy each other's company. Ships passing in the night. Parallel lines intersecting for a little while. Uncomplicated and easy and so fucking nice.

Zitao has less grace in the bedroom than he does on the dance floor, but it's not like it matters. He's all hands and eager touches, climbing on top of Yaoyao and grinding down against him, pulling moans from both their mouths and Yaoyao kisses him again, swallows the sounds, licks into Zitao's mouth. 

"Want," Zitao mutters, voice hoarse and strained with something close to need. If Yaoyao didn't want him already, he sure as hell does now. Aches for it, even. Runs his hands over Zitao's back and sides, searches out sensitive spots, learns him without words. Discovers, conquers, enjoys. It's almost like dancing. Getting used to each other, learning how to fit together. It doesn't have to be perfect, or mind-blowing. Yaoyao arches up against Zitao; Zitao groans against his ear, and it's enough. More than enough.

 

 

Beijing, eight thirty-five a.m

The sun streams through the curtains in Zitao's bedroom. Technically, it's morning, but Yaoyao isn't quite willing to accept it. He stretches out comfortably and yawns, feeling warm and satisfied and like he'd be happy not to move an inch for the entire day.

It's not up to him, though. "Want me to leave?"

Zitao props himself up on one elbow and smiles at him. Eyeliner smudged, lips red, cheeks still flushed. He's beautiful. "Stay," he says. Leans in and kisses Yaoyao, again and again, until Yaoyao's head spins. "Stay," Zitao repeats, and lets himself fall back on the bed, pulling Yaoyao with him. Nothing but warmth and comfort and skin on skin. No better way to spend a morning after a perfect night.

Yaoyao would happily stay forever.


End file.
